Saturday Afternoons. In Memorata.

baseball-glove

Eric, our 21 year old Son, joins Zeke and me on the bed. He’s texting. I’m reading. Zeke’s napping, his paw twitches. The TV buzzes in the background.

Kanigan Men, never have much to say to each other. Yet, he did come in, and sit with his Dad and his Dog. As Heithaus would say in ‘Insides’: …Between words – white space and breath, the air moving without sound…all the fecund stuff inside us that finds thought and voice and sound.’

Eric continues texting.

New York Times: Screen Addiction is Taking a Toll on Children: “Texting looms as the next national epidemic, with half of teenagers sending 50 or more text messages a day and those aged 13 through 17 averaging 3,364 texts a month.”

Eric pauses from texting to look out the second floor window and down the street. Three houses down, a neighbor is playing catch with his five year old son. 15 years ago, that would have been Eric and me. On the street, in the hot mid-day sun in Miami. I can hear the ‘clop’ of the ball hitting his mitt. His cheeks are flushed. His hair matted and wet. Wonder if this scene is taking him back?

“The average 8- to 10-year-old spends nearly eight hours a day with a variety of different media, and older children and teenagers spend more than 11 hours per day.” Television, long a popular “babysitter,” remains the dominant medium, but computers, tablets and cellphones are gradually taking over…Parents, grateful for ways to calm disruptive children and keep them from interrupting their own screen activities, seem to be unaware of the potential harm from so much time spent in the virtual world. “We’re throwing screens at children all day long, giving them distractions rather than teaching them how to self-soothe, to calm themselves down.”

The Father tosses the ball. Son misses, and he scurries after it. Eric continues to watch. I’m watching him watch. It’s these moments that make a Life.

“Technology is a poor substitute for personal interaction….There’s no conversation anymore,” said their grandfather, who often picks them up. When the family dines out, the boys use their devices before the meal arrives and as soon as they finish eating.”

Eric turns to his side and falls asleep. He had a late night out with Friends. Zeke stirs but doesn’t wake.

“Teenagers send an average of 34 texts a night after they get into bed, adding to the sleep deprivation so common and harmful to them.”

I set my laptop down.
I take a last wistful pass by our street in Miami in July. A fading photograph.
I close my eyes.
I hear a few more back and forth “clops” on ball to mitt.
Father to Son. Son to Father.
And this moment vanishes…ashes to ashes…dust to dust.

I slide over to lean softly against my Son, back to back.
Zeke is at our feet.
And the Boys sleep.


Notes:

39 thoughts on “Saturday Afternoons. In Memorata.

    1. I agree wholeheartedly with Val. The piece is poignant and has a wistful feel to it but I also sense gratitude for just being there with your son and your dog 🙂

      Like

  1. Stirs up so many pictures. You guys now and then. Father and son. Love. And in floats a similar scene from last month when son dropped in solo for a weekend. Wonderful writing, David.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply